


Judges Houses: Directors Cut

by thekindofworld



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekindofworld/pseuds/thekindofworld
Summary: Featuring Louis/Liam/Harry sofa cuddles, Doritos, Friends, Judge!Louis, his boys category, and Anthony getting forehead kisses.





	Judges Houses: Directors Cut

“Harry, the door!”

“Louis, you have legs,” Harry yells back, rolling his eyes as he pads barefoot through the marble hallway anyway. He’s mostly joking; Louis has been up for the last twenty-four hours poring over pages and pages of notes and profiles on all of his boys, A5 pieces of poster paper filled with brainstorms for possible live performances, song choices, staging ideas. He’s already filled three notebooks with details about Brendan’s vocal range, and how they can comfortably push it, a regimen for helping Thomas with his straining habits. He’s even written little lyrics and melodies, ideas for if he ever collabed with J-Sol or Armstrong.

So really, Harry is not at all bothered about leaving his book to go and answer the door.

He isn’t expecting to find Liam stood on their front porch in the pouring rain, arms open with a giant, shit eating grin on his face.

He immediately jumps at him, relief washing over him as he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding since they last saw each other. He’s missed Liam’s warm arms wrapping tight around his waist so much.

“Hey there, sunshine!” Liam laughs, spinning him around a bit before pulling back. “You’re all wet now.”

“Shut up!” Harry slaps his shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, you little shit.”

“Eh, thought I’d surprise you. Where’s the main man?”

Harry’s about to tell him when there’s a small sob behind them and Liam’s eyes shift from Harry, to the source.

Louis is stood in the middle of the hallway with a discarded piece of scribbled on paper in his left hand, t-shirt skewif on his body, eyes welling very quickly.

“Hey,” Liam says softly. “Woah, what’s wrong?”

“He hasn’t slept,” Harry sighs. “And he’s had a lot of coffee.”

Liam moves over the threshold first, letting Harry close the door behind them.

“Shut it,” Louis says, voice croaky. “Just shh. One second. Let me just-”

But Liam is already grabbing a hold of him. Louis stands stiff for a moment, pretending to be disgusted, before he huffs, sniffs, wipes his face with one hand, and hugs him back, burying his face in his neck.

“C’mon,” Harry says, “there’s food. I’ll get you summat dry to wear.”

Liam holds onto Louis for a few more seconds before letting him lead him through to the large kitchen. They sit up on the stools at the island whilst Harry finds him an oversized hoodie and some shorts.

“I just-”

“Louis,” Liam says, slapping him up the back of the head. “No.”

“But-”

“No. No more A&R talk until tomorrow. I’m here to help you out, mate, but tonight you have to go to sleep.”

Louis narrows his eyes and looks very grumpy, but doesn’t say anything else until Harry returns.

“So you gonna tell us why you turned up a day early?”

“I got bored,” Liam tells them as Harry finds them some soup and sets out bowls.

“You got bored so you decided to fly to Ibiza?” Louis snorts, sitting back in his chair, taking one of Harry’s headscarf’s that he just leaves lying around and using it to push the hair back from his face. He has dark lines under his eyes and stubble peppering his cheekbones.

“Yeah,” Liam shrugs, smiling. “They gave me the whole week off from the studio.”

Louis nods; they’re all creatives, and when they have to take time off they end up the same way every time, sat on a couch, twiddling thumbs, trying to remember how holiday used to feel when they weren’t used to working constantly.

“Well maybe you’ll be better at corralling him into resting,” Harry gestures at Louis, who flips him the bird. Harry just blows him a kiss and continues putting the soup in the microwave.

“We’re getting up at 6 tomorrow,” Louis announces.

Liam raises his eyebrows, and Harry smirks, leaning back against the counter and watching Louis tiredly rubbing at his eyes. “You don’t normally even think about getting out of bed until eleven.”

“Liam,” Harry starts cutting up bread and butter into dippies. “I haven’t woken up after eight for the last fortnight. Don’t even try arguing with him.”

“He knows,” Louis insists, waving Harry off. “I have a responsibility to these lads. They’re my kids for the next three months.”

There’s no point in objecting, Harry’s caught on. He loves Louis more than ever for how seriously he’s taking this role. And he knows its important because of how badly they were let down by their own mentor; but he also doesn’t like seeing Louis deprive himself of sleep.

“ _We_ ,” Liam grabs the side of Louis’ scalp and drags him in to press a rough kiss to his temple. “We have a responsibility. At least for the next two days. I’m here to help, Lou. So, like… calm the fuck down and get rested for your boys. They need you to be tip top as well.”

“He’s got no issues in that regard,” Harry winks, and Louis rolls his eyes, the first glint of mischievousness Harry’s seen in them in days, and it makes his heart skip a beat, as always.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh,” Liam cringes. “God, I’ve been here less than an hour and you’re already being gross.”

“Eat your soup,” Harry tells him, putting the bowl in front of Liam and shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. Louis pushes up from his seat to lean over and kiss Harry briefly, before standing up and stretching. Even hacking back, cracking his bones into place, and smelling like he’s been living in a bin for three days, Harry thinks he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Right, lads,” Louis croaks. “I’m off for a cig and a shower. When I get back, Friends better be on the TV and I better have a cuppa waiting for me.”

“Yes, boss,” Liam says as he burns his tongue trying to eat his food too quickly, and Harry salutes him, flicking the kettle on and sitting down to eat his own food.

* * *

 

Three hours later, Louis is sleeping tucked into the right side of Liam’s body on the sofa, and Harry is eating his second jumbo packet of Doritos curled into Liam’s left. As they watch their way through The One Where Everyone Knows, Liam and Harry intermittently bicker about who knew first about Louis and Harry’s relationship.

“Shit, its 3am,” Louis’ voice makes them both jump and Harry nearly chokes on a Jelly Baby. Stirring innocently, he blinks his eyes open and groans when he realises there’s a crick lodged in his neck. “Fuck, why did you let me sleep like this.”

“Honey, you’ve been awake for nearly two days. There’s no way I was disturbing you.”

“Its too warm. How are you still a fucking furnace?” Louis elbows Liam in the ribs, forcing him to squirm and let him sit up. Liam looks offended but Harry makes a face of agreement.

“I run hot,” Liam furrows his brow. “Stop being mean.”

“Bed,” Louis says, yawning and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I second that,” Harry says, making to move but doing it too quickly and yelping when his back makes a popping noise.

“God, we’re old.”

“You’re twenty-three,” Liam snorts. “Gimme a blanket then.”

“What?” Harry says as he stands, helping Louis up and starting to clear the coffee table of all the mess.

“A blanket. C’mon, H, you’re a better host than this. I run hot and I know its Ibiza but you guys have your air con up way too high. I’m not sleeping on this sofa without a blanket.”

Louis and Harry look at each other for a second, totally nonplussed before they look back at their friend.

“You’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

“Right, I’ll find a room-”

“Don’t be a dickhead, you’re coming to bed with us,” Louis throws a cushion at Liam’s head. “Move your arse. We have to be up in three hours.”

* * *

 

Harry wakes a few hours later to the sound of the shower running full blast in the en-suit and Louis propped up against the headboard beside him typing at the speed of light across his laptop keyboard.

He lets out a soft, low groan and blinks one eye at his phone on the bedside table. Its 6am, as planned, and the sheets are tangled between them where Liam has been laid. He snuggles into the warmth left over, and Louis’ hand lands in his hair, gently stroking through it.

“There’s a coffee next to your phone when you want it,” he says, ducking to kiss at Harry’s forehead.

“Hmm,” he grumbles. “Gimme a minute.”

“Zayn called a few minutes ago. Liam put him on loud speaker. He says he’s in Tokyo next week if you wanna meet up.”

“I’ll text him in a bit. What are you doing?”

“Emails,” Louis sighs, “I want the legal lads to change some stuff in the contract for the single release. Just some wording I’m not keen on. Dunno if we’ll be able to do anything about it, but I reckon its worth a shot.”

“Definitely,” Harry croaks, rubbing at his eyes and giving up on getting another ten minutes of shut eye. Instead, he inches himself up and wraps his fingers around the hot mug, letting the steam loosen his muscles. “What’s on the agenda today then, bossman?”

“I’ve got the files with all the audition clips and some old covers from all the boys. I want us to watch through them so Li can get an idea of how I’m making the decision, what I’m looking for, etcetera.”

“Cool,” Harry says, “I wanna revisit the idea you had about Brendan covering Meet Me In The Hallway.”

“Still don’t know if I can get that approved,” Louis breathes in through his nose. “And you were right about it being a difficult tone to maintain through a whole song.”

“You can do anything, Lou,” Harry insists, placing his coffee back down and making to roll them both a cigarette. “But we’ll see.”

“The boys get here around 12ish so I wanna have the whole afternoon free for them. We got the caterer for lunch, right?”

“All sorted,” Harry grins, stumbling over to the balcony to crack the doors open and stand near it, sparking up and then chucking Louis the lighter. He does the same thing, grabbing the nearest ashtray and placing it on the mattress beside him.

“Good,” Louis says. “You wanna meet them?”

Harry has to take a second because he’s sure that’s against the rules. The boys have probably signed NDAs, and there’s not to be a peep of Harry on any of the cameras today. They’ve been warned.

But Louis is offering anyway, and he’s so good with them. They’re all he’s talked about for the last two months.

“Yeah!” Harry stubs his cig out on the balcony wall and scrambles to sit crosslegged on the bed near Louis’ hips. “Yeah of course!”

“Great,” Louis laughs, raising his eyebrows at how excited Harry is. “You’re gonna love them, H, honestly. They’re so amazing.”

“What – what do we say?”

“Well I’m headed down to the beach to meet them first, after hair and make up. Li has to go get in the van with Nile to pretend he hasn’t been here. I’ll bring them to the house after we’ve filmed the buggy race, and I’ll send the crew off for drinks or summat.”

Liam ruins the moment by walking from the bathroom stark naked and grumpy because of how early it is, not even looking at them as he goes off to find his clothes from the washing machine. They look at each other for a moment before deciding its better they don’t mention it; its nothing they haven’t seen before. Then Harry lurches forward, grabbing at Louis’ face and kissing it all over, ignoring his noises of protest.

“This is going to be a really good day,” Harry says, suddenly full of energy. “I feel it in my bones, Lewis. I feel it.”

“Okay, Harold,” Louis snorts. “Stick some bacon on.”

But Harry is already rushing down the hall to make sure Liam doesn’t set the house on fire and tell him the good news.

* * *

 

He’s been sat around twiddling his thumbs for two hours when he hears the front door open. He listens to some hushed, confused chatter whilst Louis disables the alarm, and the footsteps down the hall make him jump up from the sofas.

The lads have already eaten, he knows, but he hasn’t been able to stop himself from making some plates of snacks and drinks.

“So, boys,” he hears Louis say, “you’re gonna meet my guest judges soon but I have another friend hanging around stinking up my house today too, and he’s been looking forward to meeting you all-”

“Shut up, you’re the one that wont shut up about them,” Harry interrupts him, with the most confident, bright grin he can muster as he approaches the door frame, and the looks on their faces when they lay eyes on him is the most satisfying thing he’s seen in a while.

Jaws drop, eyes widen, gasps sound the hallway, and he just keeps grinning, laughing at Louis’ eyeroll.

“I was trying to be dramatic, Harold.”

“You failed,” he winks at him. “Alright, lads?”

“Fuck,” Thomas curses, before slapping a hand over his mouth, and Harry loves him already. J recovers the quickest and tugs him in for a tight hug that slightly knocks the wind out of him. And the others soon follow, a bit dumbstruck. He can see the cogs turning in their brains, already coming to conclusions as to why he’s here, barefoot and dressed down in loose linen trousers and his women are smarter tee. To them, Harry and Louis hate each other and only interact when they’re forced to. He was the very last person they were expecting to see.

“Oh my god, man,” Brendan says, slapping his hand against Harry’s when he holds it out to him. “I came to see you in Ireland this year. Holy shit.”

“Lou said,” Harry says. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Amazing,” he replies, shaking his head some more. “Armstrong, Dalton. You guys are killing it!”

“Thank you!” Dalton shakes his hand but Harry hugs every single one of them before coming to Anthony.

“There you are, mate,” Harry takes his face in his hands and presses a big, sloppy kiss to his forehead. Anthony nudges him in the ribs to get him to stop, but he’s smiling and blushing a bit when Harry lets him up anyway. “How you keeping?”

“Top notch,” Anthony ruffles his hair. “Look how long its getting now, lad, you need a chop.”

“Piss off,” Harry says, as he leads them into the room, offering them all seats. “Ant likes to tease me, but he loves the long hair really.”

“You guys – y’know what, don’t worry,” Thomas snorts, “I don’t wanna know.”

“Haz here is a liar. Louis, you dickhead, you didn’t mention this all afternoon.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you all fumbling about nervous.”

Harry loves this. Just watching him with them, natural and soft and beaming with pride. He’s been so stressed out about having to send one of them home, but seeing him with these boys now; there’s not a line of worry on his face whatsoever. He’s buzzing, and Harry thinks it could power a city for years.

“Are you nervous?”

“About performing, yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry pats J’s knee. “We were the same. And then Louis fucked up his foot an hour before we were supposed to perform and everyone was having a hernia.”

“You were having a hernia,” Louis interjects. “Niall was shitting himself. Liam was ready to kill someone. Probably me. And Zayn was just trying to remember his lines.”

Harry sees some of the tenseness melt away from the boy’s shoulders as they speak, comforted by the knowledge that everything that could have gone wrong for the band back in 2010 at this stage, did. And they conquered the world regardless.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Harry says. “The logistics, the planning, the freakouts. They don’t matter. What matters is the moment, and the music. So you just have to look after each other, and take your moment. Everything else is just background noise.”

“Then the gay vodka is on me tonight, lads.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

J and Anthony jump out of their skin, but Brendan laughs and Thomas and Dalton start throwing Wosits from the bowls he’s set out at him, and Louis just sits there, letting them, just enjoying the one time they’re all going to be in a room together for the rest of their lives.

And then its time to get started.


End file.
